I make chores fun. Or—shall I say—tolerable?
After scrubbing black char from the stove’s surface, wiping up espresso grounds, and slogging slimy bread and cereal bits toward the sink drain, I reach a point. A threshold. The kind that says, “Nay! No more!” like a bloodied warrior in the middle of a Medieval battle.
Then, enter Mel Gibson with his blue and white face paint, and a final rallying cry that sounds suspiciously like the narrator from Mortal Kombat: “Finish him!”
And I do. I push through to the bonus round—full completion. Everything done to 100%. The shine. The straightened. The sigh of relief as I survey my clean domain. There’s something deeply satisfying about closing the loop.
Last night, a paparazzi-level lightning storm began at midnight and went on for at least twenty minutes. Flash. Black. Flash. Black. Over and over. I’d never seen anything like it. At first, my brain didn’t register what was happening. I thought maybe Dave was on the back porch watching a movie—the flicker of a screen? It took me longer than I’d like to admit to raise the blinds and see the sky itself putting on a strobe-light show of electric wildness.
And because of the storm, today’s weather is back to brilliant. Adiós high 90s. Hello, low 80s. Still too hot in my book, but hey—living in the South means accepting that summer will never quite bend to my will.
The sun, pine tree, and mountain tattoo I got at a kid’s birthday party last week is on its last fibers. I tried my best to scratch it off with a fingernail before leaving for book club, but no luck—I showed up with a partially decaying patch of ink on my shoulder. Sitting next to Anna, I caught her mid-sentence glancing at it again and again. I had to let her know: it’s just a temporary tattoo. Not some kind of shoulder rot. She looked visibly relieved.
Today was a day of dodging bullets—from clients, from friends. I fielded what I could and drafted Dave as my line-drawer-in-chief. He’s good at that. Creating space. Offering clarity. Holding the boundary.
He’s doing that now, only he’s patiently waiting for me to finish this so we can watch our show. I’ll attach the video from last night for you. Enjoy!
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 